


Rude Love

by aurora_nuova



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Author has no beta we die like men, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, MadaTobi Week 2020, Modern AU, Slow Burn, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, at least i hope so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:21:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25519480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_nuova/pseuds/aurora_nuova
Summary: Summer sun, cool waves, a beautiful beach.Nothing could go wrong on this long awaited, blessed holiday to the sea, right?  W r o n g!Madara should’ve just pushed his best friend off of that cliff they had been playing on as kids when he had the chance.2020 MadaTobi Week 4:There was only one bed
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 52
Kudos: 196
Collections: MadaTobi Week 2020





	1. Something new

Madara startled awake with a curse on his lips when a cheering Hashirama‘s elbow hit the pillow his head had been resting upon but momentarily got distracted by a female speaker announcement.

_“—and gentleman, as we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position and your seatbelt is securely fastened—”_

Ah, apparently it was time for their airplane to land. And surely, looking out of the window confirmed it as no clouds were greeting him. Instead, the ground was rapidly closing in on them.

Turning his head away from the window, he threw Mito—who was sitting on Hashirama‘s right— a tired but bemused look that she promptly returned when her husband started making quiet hooting noises at the bumpy arrival at their destination. 

What a child, he thought fondly as he acknowledged a warm feeling making its way through his body. Though such mushy thoughts were only allowed in the privacy of his mind and were never to be discussed out loud or lest he got made fun of by Izuna or his other siblings.

Looking at his best friend, he sometimes wished he had half as much, well, or maybe only a third of his positivity. At least on his good days. 

Though, on second thought, it sounded rather exhausting. 

Maybe his slightly more realistic approach to life wasn‘t so bad after all, he mused as said best friend turned around to him with a beaming smile, not even having noticed that he had been the cause of his interrupted sleep in his glee. Returning a sleepy smile, he realized that Hashirama probably was positive enough for both of them. Or rather both of their close families, if he were to be honest.

It still amused him to this day that no sane person would expect this child of a man to be a renowned paediatrician but sometimes people were apparently wrong. Very wrong.

Because jokes aside, fortunately, Hashirama indeed could be serious when his patients and their parents trusted him with the children’s life. And doing so, he tended to them with unmatched enthusiasm and passion. 

So all was good, he guessed.

Stretching his stiff muscles through a yawn, he noticed familiar tresses of long, dark hair sticking out from between the gap in the seats in front of him. Zeroing in on it with a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips, he nimbly stuck his hand through the gap to pull one of the bigger chunks of hair, only to immediately receive a satisfyingly high pitched yelp.

“OUCH! You ass!” Izuna screeched turning his head back around to him and hastily reclaimed all of his hair with a scowl, making Madara huff in amusement.

“Oh please, stop being such a drama quee-” the older of the two started retorting when suddenly his younger brother turned around in his seat somewhat—seatbelt still fastened, making the endeavour pretty awkward looking as he smushed his face between the backrests to make a grab for Madara’s own hair. 

“No!” he groused out, leaning away from the squiggly hand. “Stop!”

“Payback‘s a bitch, Nii-san!” the younger Uchiha snarked back, voice muffled by the seat and continued to make grabs for his hair that Madara defended by slapping his grabby hands away.

“Children, please,” Mito‘s exasperated voice suddenly broke through their argument, making both of them stop—Madara crossing his arms while Izuna turned back around and untangled himself from the space between the two seats, arm almost getting stuck in the process. 

“I‘m not a child, he is!” Izuna grumbled out as he was facing the right way again, missing the red head‘s amused but quiet laugh.

Wondering why the biggest child of them all hadn‘t joined them in their squabbling and actually kept quiet for once, the Uchiha looked back at Hashirama, noticing that he too had an arm moving, but in the right gap between the seats in front of himself. The Uchiha made a confused sound and nudged the taller man who then looked at him with a questioning smile.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to wake up Tobi and Itama, I saw them asleep when I left for the bathroom a few minutes ago,” the brunette answered with a sunny smile as the Uchiha hummed in acknowledgement as people around them started to get their luggage from the overhead stowage spaces to leave the plane.

Finally exiting the airport‘s sliding doors with their heavy luggage to walk into a metaphorical wall of humidity as the sun tried to roast them alive only made Madara close his eyes in misery. The heat was so much worse than he had anticipated. 

_Great_

To be completely honest, he hadn‘t even wanted to come here in the first place, would have instead preferred a milder, more enjoyable weather for his long-awaited vacation but unfortunately, he had lost in the poll their two families had held to determine what this trip‘s destination would be as everyone except Itama and him had voted for this dreaded hot climate as their travel destination. 

Surprisingly even Tobirama— _currently dressed in long pants with a long-sleeved sweatshirt‘s hood and a pair of sunglasses covering his face_ —had wanted to come here. 

Whatever, he would make the best of this holiday. 

As it was, unfortunately, not all of their siblings had been able to come with them due to scheduling difficulties. However, they had already agreed on another trip in winter when hopefully their schedules would align a bit more smoothly with much more desirable weather, _at least for him._

He already looked forward to it. 

Something he could live without though, was the planning and scheduling part as arranging things for the six of them had been a logistical nightmare already. What with Itama having to hand his last thesis in the day before while Izuna and Tobirama respectively had to write their exams a few hours before their flight took off.

He himself probably wouldn’t even have been able to take time off on such short notice if his position at work as detective hadn‘t been so high and he himself and his good reputation hadn’t been so well regarded amongst their ranks and—no, he was joking. In reality he still had a few open favours with his boss and promptly used one of them to be able to be here with his family and friends when Hashirama had texted him the booking confirmation. 

His boss obviously hadn‘t been too happy. But after Madara had helped out countless of times, sacrificing his free time again and again when needed, raked in so many extra hours, that he had accumulated a lot of those favours. And just to be on the safe side, had tied all loose ends at work in preparation which thankfully had swayed the man to agree in the end. 

The Uchiha briefly wondered how Obito and his fellow colleagues were doing before Izuna chatting him up caught his attention.

Next thing he knew, they were leaving their rented cars parked outside an Italian restaurant and taking their seats around a big but crammed table as Hashirama had rejected the friendly personnel’s offer to push two tables together because apparently he wanted to cuddle in this inhumane heat or who knew why tree brain hadn‘t wanted the second table because Madara for sure didn‘t. 

Smushed between Izuna and Hashirama, he could already feel the sweat run down his back as he pushed his sunglasses atop his head, tangling up a few strands of hair that he couldn’t care less about at the moment in the process. 

“Get anything you want, it‘s on me to celebrate the end of the semester for our three youngest and of course, the start of our amazing holidays together!“ his best friend exclaimed when everyone had received their beverages and toasted all of them, resulting in clinking of glass and various intonations of gratitude amongst them.

After Madara downed his glass in one go and lowered it back on the table with a loud clink, he rummaged through his pockets to find a godforsaken hair tie. His hair was already uncomfortably sticking to the back of his neck. Frowning, he gave up when he came up empty. 

Hashirama probably didn‘t have one on hand, as he only tied it for work and Mito used hair pins, which left him with only Izuna who was typing away on one of his social media accounts. Leaning over, he saw a snapshot out of the airplane window.

“Pretty picture.”

Izuna immediately shot him a dubious look.

“Okay. What do you want?” his younger brother asked with an expectant look on his face.

“Can‘t I compliment you without wanting anything?” he asked bemused.

“Oh please,” the other huffed out.

“Alright, whatever. Do you have a hair tie?”

Izuna took a terribly amused look at his horribly mussed up hair. The stupid humidity wasn‘t doing the older Uchiha any favours, making his usually wild hair poof up and stick out in an even crazier mess than usual. He was well aware but the brat didn‘t even try to stifle his derisive snort. 

“Yes, but know that this will cost you a third of your dessert,” the little shit haughtily replied as he took a tie out of a bag between them.

“A fifth and you have yourself a deal,” Madara huffed, holding his hand out.

“A fourth and you have to order something I actually like,” Izuna countered, holding out the desired hair tie just out of reach.

“Deal,” he heaved out with a heavy sigh, accepting the cargo and tying up his hair into a messy ponytail, immediate relief flooding him, as the slightly less warm air of the ceiling fan caressed the back of his neck. Much better.

Madara shot his greedy brother and his mostly immaculate hair an annoyed look, when the other happily turned back to continue typing away on his smartphone. 

He would need to steal whatever the little shit had used to wrestle his own mane into submission out of his luggage and use it on his hair tomorrow when the other inevitably would still be snoozing away the morning, since he liked to sleep in. 

They had the same hair structure, after all, but he wasn‘t willing to pay the unreasonably high price his sibling surely would come up with as soon as he asked him about the product he must‘ve been using to tame their family brand of crazy hair.

Under no circumstances would he walk around like some caveman after today, though. 

Right now everyone was still tired and mussed up from their flight, even elegant Mito, so his crazier than usual hair wouldn‘t be noticed too badly.

But starting tomorrow, that excuse wouldn‘t fly anymore, as everyone would attempt to look presentable for the undoubtedly many pictures Hashirama and Izuna would take in the span of their holidays. And seriously, latter didn‘t need even more blackmailing material, as he already had more than enough of that stowed away already.

But more importantly, tomorrow Tobirama wouldn‘t be so exhausted anymore that his head would look like it was ready to loll onto the table. 

Seriously, the poor guy looked ready to fall off the chair any minute if it weren‘t for Itama on his left, holding him up in an embrace while happily chatting with him and Izuna squished in on his right, forcing him into a somewhat upright position. 

The younger Senju seemed way too tired to even notice much today, belatedly reacting to any verbal or physical stimuli as far as he had seen. 

In fact, the exhausted albino probably couldn’t wait until they finished their food and finally drove to the hotel so he could catch up on all of that lost sleep tonight. However, that also meant that the albino‘s sharp eyes would be scrutinizing and analyzing everyone and everything starting with tomorrow, so he needed to look presentable if not a bit nicer than usual at least. 

Feeling eyes bore into the side of his head, he inwardly startled at being caught staring, as his eyes slid back over to Izuna who was wiggling his eyebrows and pursing his lips at him in an imitation of a kiss. 

“Shut up!” he quietly hissed and shoved at him, hoping no one had noticed the idiot.

“But I‘m not saying anything!” the brat cackled, as he bumped into an unresponsive Tobirama next to him, subsequently rattling Itama who shot them a quick bemused but confused look.

“Just stop it, you ass,” he grumbled out, refraining from hitting his younger brother upside the head to avoid any additional spotlight from the chatting couple by his side to keep the cause of the start of the situation under wraps.

There was no need for Izuna to spout lies about him ogling the light haired man like he had a crush on him or something similarly stupid. Definitely lies. Shut up.

He avoided looking in the albino‘s direction for the rest of their duration at the restaurant, even when Izuna stole more than a fourth of his dessert.

But apparently things were still going too smoothly and the universe wanted to punish him for whatever sins he had accumulated over his life at once because right before they entered their hotel to check in, Hashirama abruptly planted his feet on the searing hot concrete under a palm tree and waved them over.

Oh god, what would this be about?

Judging by the massive grin on his face, it couldn‘t be anything good.

When everyone was situated around him, Hashirama clapped his hands.

“Alright, since we always, well, almost! Since we almost always do the same room distributions, I came up with an idea this time,” he revealed giddily.

“Wait, what?” Madara exclaimed confused as the taller man started rummaging in his pant pocket.

“We‘re drawing straws!“ the idiot exclaimed joyously as he held out a fist of sticks, receiving mixed reactions from everyone around him.

“Please tell me you‘re not serious?“ the oldest Uchiha replied with a sinking feeling.

“Why not?“

“Mito, your wife, is the only female in this group?“ he tried reasoning to no avail.

“Oh yes, that‘s why we‘re sharing a room!“ the stupid tree answered him cheerfully.

And it was that moment that Madara actually took a look at the sticks in his hand and noticed that there were only four of them. Opening his mouth, Hashirama immediately interrupted him.

“Because we booked on such short notice, they only had one room with two single beds, the other two are double beds. Mito and I will take one of those but there‘s still the question of who will get the other two rooms each,“ the older Senju explained with a smile.

“Still, it doesn‘t make any sense why we should draw lots in the first place. I don’t care in what kind of bed I sleep in with Izuna,“ Madara said scowling as he crossed his arms.

“But Itama and Izuna want to try something new and right now you’re the only one not agreeing,” the brunette said pouting.

“You didn’t even give me a heads up— Wait, _what?_ Since when does snowflake agree to your stupid ideas?” he asked, throwing the two Senju brothers in question a confused look. One of them half asleep and not even listening, the other one pouting down at him.

After all, out of the siblings Tobirama was the only one stopping Hashirama’s mischief on a daily basis when things looked like they would get out of hand while the two younger ones loved to indulge in their eldest brother’s silly antics.

“Anija asked him on our way to the airport,” Itama helpfully supplied, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Do you really think that‘s fair? Snowflake has been closer to a walking zombie than a human being!“ he groused out, scowl intensifying.

Tobirama very belatedly pursed his lips in a pout and softly furrowed his brows but didn‘t react any further, making the older Uchiha feel all sorts of fuzzy and mushy things. God no. Trying to not show any emotion besides annoyance on his face was getting harder by the second.

“No offence, but that’s a very underhanded tactic for you, Hashirama. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days,” the older Uchiha accused to hammer in his point.

“But that’s the only way he agreed for once,” the older man admitted with a chuckle. 

He zeroed in on Izuna when he too chuckled.

“And since when do you like trying out new things?” Madara accused his sibling.

“Excuse you! I try new things all the time and you would know that if you followed my social media accounts like you said you would!” the younger Uchiha answered scandalized with furrowed brows.

The older Uchiha groaned. Not this again.

“Is it too much to want some fun on this vacation?” Hashirama asked with one of his better renditions of a puppy look directed at him while Tobirama slinked off to sit down next to Mito on a bench not far from them.

Huffing, he shuffled his feet, looking around and tried to think of a way out of this. 

Izuna would be his best bet of course. But if he had to share a room with Itama, things would probably get awkward pretty fast as they never had spent time on their own until now. However, Tobirama would be an even worse pick. Not because he had anything against the younger man but because of other _things_ that he didn’t want to think about at the moment. 

No, he wouldn’t play Hashirama’s stupid games this time. Why should he? Especially when his idiotic friend easily had taken himself out of the equation. Unfair. He was here to relax and enjoy himself.

Having decided against his best friend’s plea, he looked back to said friend only to freeze at the triumphant look on his face. 

Oh no.

“What?”

“Have you forgotten? You owe me!” the idiot exclaimed with a wry grin.

Now it was his turn to furrow his eyebrows in incomprehension.

“You lost that bet at our last poker evening weeks ago,” the tan man replied giddily.

Madara’s eyes widened. He was right but he wouldn’t, would he?

“Are you seriously going to waste it on something like that? Hashirama, you wouldn’t, right?” he asked, rubbing his forehead to soothe his growing headache with a grimace.

He knew he was doomed, when three grinning faces met his.

“I absolutely would and I am henceforth officially claiming the favour you owe me!” the childish tree trunk of a man exclaimed laughing in glee, hands on his hips.

Suppressing another groan, Madara felt more sweat trickle down his back. Honestly, he could’ve done worse, he guessed. Hashirama could’ve used the favour to send him off to do much more horrible or embarrassing things. This was absolutely not ideal but whatever. What were the odds of him having to share a room with Tobirama, after all? Two to one against it, not bad at all. And he surely could make it work with Itama, too.

Being already fed up with the situation and the sun searing what felt like holes into his back, he decided that he didn’t care anymore as long as they could go inside soon. Preferably right this instant.

“Fine,” he conceded defeated, receiving surprised looks at his unusually short lived refusal and hooting from Hashirama.

“Alright, youngest first! There’s two short and two long ones,” the excited man exclaimed, holding out his hand with the sticks to Itama after he had shuffled them behind his back. “Don’t reveal them until everyone has a stick!”

When it finally was Madara’s turn, he didn’t have much choice but to accept the remaining stick as the oldest of the four.

“Reveal your sticks on the count of three! One, two, three!” Hashirama exclaimed excited.

Madara blanched when all of them unfurled their fists to showcase each of their picks. Had he seriously ended up with one of the short sticks? Wait, if the other two had the two long ones, that meant that Tobirama and he—

Hashirama clapped him on the shoulder with a huff of laughter.

“Looks like you and Tobi share a room!”

“Wha—”

“Okay, now I need those back and the winner team picks one of two to decide who the winner of the room with the two single beds is,” the older Senju exclaimed.

When Itama picked the longer stick, Madara despaired internally.

How could his luck be this bad? Had he seriously just lost two times in a row? Also wasn’t the looser supposed to get to pick first and—

Wait.

_Oh no._

His eyes widened and he paled even more when suddenly the realization hit him that he had to share a double bed with his cru- _Tobirama_ for the upcoming two weeks here.

He was doomed.

_Suddenly he didn’t even feel warm anymore._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course me being me, this super short story that was supposed to be a one-shot (two-shot at most) now turned into more. Gee abshdjntkfh what a _surprise_
> 
> But somehow I really liked the setting when I got the idea and then one thing lead to another and now I have this multi chapter thing here.
> 
> First time writing modern au, though, so I am absolutely unsure how this turned out and am very anxious to be posting this to be honest.
> 
> So uh is this even remotely alright?
> 
> -
> 
> Oh and in case you want to privately hit me up about any of my works or MadaTobi :>, please feel free to do so on [Tumblr](https://aurora-nuova.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aurora_nuova)


	2. Say yes

The blessed feeling of internal coolness did not last long, though, as his brain started to catch up with the happenings more rapidly, the level of fluster rising in tandem.

Just as fast as the cold had overcome him a minute ago, immediately warmth rushed through Madara’s body, making him feel like the sparse clothes he was wearing were something akin to a winter coat assisting the relentless sun in roasting him alive out in the humid heat. 

Sweat dripping down his face, he opened his mouth.

"No take backs!" Hashirama interjected way too gleefully, as the older Uchiha's mouth closed and his left eye started to twitch, much to Izuna's apparent amusement.

"You're acting as if sharing a room with Tobi-nii is a bad thing," the youngest in their midst suddenly exclaimed with a crestfallen and unhappy pout when he saw the grimace on Madara's face.

This damned lot and their infamous Senju pouts!

Again, his lips parted to defend his reaction.

"Yeah, he's not even a bad roommate! I shared rooms with him and we got along well, so why are you making such a fuss, Nii-san?" Izuna hurriedly threw in with the weakest attempt at a hurt look Madara had seen in a long while, lips twitching every now and then as if trying to avoid a smile, making him in return grind his teeth in barely contained anger at that horribly veiled attempt to guilt-trip him.

Those ridiculous idiots were making him look bad in front of Mito and Tobirama. As if he was opposed to sharing a room with the albino because he feared him to be a bad roommate. 

Oh please, they were completely missing the point on purpose to fluster him!

Unfortunately, it was somehow working, though.

He frowned and growled through his teeth at them.

Usually, he wouldn't even care whether he looked bad or not, his family and his boss could write whole essays on that ' _little problem of his_ ' as they had coined it but something deep down in him was opposed to and even felt severely uncomfortable at the mere notion to look like a dick in front of the redhead and her not so secretly favourite brother-in-law.

In a moment of weakness, his eyes even slid over to the bench the two in question were lounging on—well, more like Mito was classily resting on there like she owned the place with her horridly expensive sunglasses, lovingly supporting what appeared to be a dozing Tobirama against her shoulder. 

Apparently feeling his stare—or maybe even by complete coincidence, who the hell knew—she lifted her head and shot him an unimpressed look. At least, he thought she did, when she visibly raised one of her finely trimmed eyebrows over the frame of said sunglasses, urging him to look back at the three clowns in front of him and immediately make up his mind with a sigh.

“It’s getting unbearably hot out here, let’s go inside already,” Madara grumbled out as Hashirama shot everyone a beaming smile at his presumed victory.

Oh, this was not over yet. Absolutely not.

He would talk them out of this. However, not here where they had the unfair advantage of his higher brain functions slowly ceasing to work. He knew how to choose his battles after all.

“Yeah, right!” His little brat of a brother shot him a wolfish grin, lifting his right hand to undoubtedly clap him on the shoulder but Madara immediately glared him down to the best of his current abilities before he turned around with his heavy suitcase to finally go inside the hopefully air-conditioned hotel lobby.

When they finally approached the bench, Mito softly shook Tobirama to wake him up, only to result in him snuggling closer to her with a whine, making her glance down at him with a look of vaguely suppressed adoration—or maybe even a suppressed squeal, he wasn’t sure, could be both—though she obviously wouldn’t completely drop her elegant behaviour like that in public. 

Gently tapping his cheek with the palm of her petite hand did the trick and the albino blurrily opened his eyes with a grunt against the glare of the sun through his sunglasses, only to squint at them in confusion.

“Honey, we’re going inside.”

“Let’s go and check-in,” Hashirama announced to the rest of them and grabbed Mito’s luggage with a jump in his step as his wife helped the albino up and off the bench.

“Would you be so kind as to grab Tobira’s luggage, Madara?” she asked with a slight grunt of surprise, unbefitting of her usual image as the much taller Senju must’ve leaned more weight on her in his tiredness than she had expected.

Stifling a sudden oncoming bark of laughter at the comical sight by clearing his throat, he nodded and quickly went for the mentioned piece of luggage to take inside.

Unfortunately, the inside wasn’t as cool as Madara had hoped for but it definitely was a step up from the sweltering temperatures outside any day, so he wasn’t complaining. 

Finally, it was time for their order of business as per usual: Check-in, get their VIP wristbands, go to their rooms to freshen up and come back down to relax at one of the hotel bars before they would retire for the night to be well-rested for their first real day of the trip tomorrow.

Madara frowned, as the lobby was bursting with life, people checking in and out as their currently chosen hotel was a very popular destination for the upper-class tourists. He almost regretted the choice but then again, the beaches and restaurants around here were hard to beat.

Fortunately, the check-in was a matter of a few minutes with Hashirama at his side and so they approached the cushy looking seating area the rest of their group was resting upon just in time to witness Itama lean over one of the couches to sneakily hand his older brother an iced coffee.

“Absolutely not,” the redheaded woman between them immediately interjected sternly and redirected the beverage’s path to a surprised Izuna just as the albino had been trying to take a sip. “Here, share this with the others. No coffee for sleeping beauty today.”

“But how is he supposed to survive the rest of the day with us?” Itama countered leaning into her with a concerned look.

“He is not. I am taking him up to his room so he can finally rest in a comfortable bed.”

“Don’t be like that, Mito-nee!” The youngest Senju pouted at her to no avail. “Aren’t we here to have fun? We don’t want to exclude Tobi-nii, right?”

“No means no,” the Uzumaki exclaimed, pursing her lips and ignored her youngest in-law’s puppy stare like a pro. “And where did you even get that?” 

“There's a bar with refreshments for the waiting guests back there,” Izuna explained nodding in the direction in answer for the youngest while sipping on the iced coffee.

“I see.”

Neither Itama nor Izuna were stupid enough to try another attempt to convince her to let them take Tobirama with them as they knew that Mito was the one in charge here, albeit unofficially. Officially it was him and his best friend, at least if anyone asked. However, not even Madara himself was stupid enough to start a pissing contest with the woman as she could be either a helpful and amazing friend if you valued her and her opinions or downright scary if you tried to put her or her value down. 

You just did not mess with her or her family. Period. 

He seriously pitied the poor idiots who would try to cross her future children. 

Also, he grimly had to admit that she tended to be right in the first place and her views and opinions too tended to be quite logical and grounded.

But apparently, not all of them were smart enough to know when they had lost a battle because Mito was right, as was evident by his unfortunate hunk of a best friend who handed his family their bracelets.

“Aww, what? Tobi is not coming with us to the bar? Mitooo~" Hashirama immediately tried his best puppy stare—huge wet eyes, upturned eyebrows and trembling upper lip all included, usually a lethal combo—only to receive a squinty, judging scowl from his wife that straight up conveyed an ‘ _over my dead body_ ’.

The brunette immediately deflated.

The Uchiha tried not to snort because Hashirama definitely should’ve known better.

He was pretty darn sure that she was immune to those looks by now because Kawarama, Itama and especially Hashirama tended to overuse them excessively. Though, it probably was a good thing, considering Tobirama was barely able to keep his eyes open, every now and then almost tipping over only to startle awake.

The Uchiha grimaced. 

Madara absolutely hated those instances of micro-sleep and loathed when he had them at work when one shift turned into two and two into three without sleep and he knew from experience that a drink in a loaded bar was probably one of the least things the Senju needed right now.

Ignoring her husband’s deflated puppy stare iterations, Mito surprisingly turned to him next.

"Can you please grab Tobira’s luggage for me again? You seem like the other only sensible person here,” Mito proclaimed with a sniff and side-eyed the other three.

Trying to take the compliment instead of focusing on the heavily implied ‘ _today_ ’—after all, it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t strictly disagree with _all_ of Hashirama’s ideas—he approached her to do as he was told.

"Sure.” 

When the tired albino tripped out of nowhere, making Mito stumble with him, Madara immediately let go of the suitcases and caught both of them on reflex. Opening his mouth, he turned back around to tell one of the others to support the tired Senju but came up empty. Well, not entirely empty, the lobby was plenty full obviously but the three he had been trying to address were gone. He turned back around.

The actual hell?

“Hey, Mito?”

“Yes?” she asked him distracted, righting her sandal that had slipped off her foot when she had stumbled, fully knowing Madara was supporting her younger in-law.

“Where the hell is everyone, am I blind or something?” he asked her with a frown, eyes searching around the busy room, ponytail swinging around.

Finally, she too looked up, only to furrow her brows and stand up.

Frowning when she couldn’t see the rest of their group either, she took out her phone to tap away on it. Probably texting Hashirama and the others. 

“Nobody is responding nor picking up their phones,” she informed him as she held the phone to her ear, mood visibly souring and dropping into dangerous territory. “It looks like a certain someone is not going to share my bed today.”

“Can’t wait to see the aftermath,” Madara jested with a wry grin that she slowly returned.

“Alright, if this is how things are then maybe you should take his luggage and I’ll help him walk?” he suggested, as he secured his arm around Tobirama.

She nodded and grabbed his luggage.

When they entered the elevator—still no sight of any of their family of course—the Senju’s head lolled onto the Uchiha’s shoulder and Mito sighed in frustration.

He shot her a questioning look.

“As long as it was about keeping him awake, it was a team effort but now that we actually could’ve used some help to get him to sleep, suddenly everyone is magically gone,” she replied with an annoyed huff. 

He shrugged but abruptly stopped when his shoulder hit the albino’s chin on accident. He grimaced and immediately cradled the other’s chin in apology when he received a sleepy grunt.

“Damn, how long was he awake this time?”

Mito hummed in thought.

“Three days as far as I know,” she said, giving her snoozing in-law in question a compassionate look. “I just hope he even packed everything he needs in his exhaustion.”

“That bad?” he asked her with an amused grimace.

“If you asked him if his name was Senju McStupid right now, chances are pretty high that he would fully agree,” she explained in a mix of amusement and worry.

At that, he grinned and looked at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh, don’t you dare!” she exclaimed, shaking with barely suppressed laughter. 

Before he could retort anything, the doors of the elevator opened with a ping and they got out. 

Arriving at Tobirama’s and Madara’s shared room, the redhead opened the door with Tobirama’s keycard. The Uchiha left his own luggage at the foot of the bed and helped the Senju lie down on the double bed while Mito followed him and pulled the albino’s suitcase inside.

“Alright, thank you, I can take it from here,” she exclaimed with a kind smile. “You can go to your room now and freshen up if you like.”

He shot her a confused look.

“This is my room.”

Now it was her turn to give him a confused look.

“I thought this is Tobirama’s room?”

“We share a room.”

Her surprised look confused him even further.

“Since when? Why was I not informed of this?”

“Since the poll outside,” he replied slowly.

“I thought the poll’s purpose was to see who would have to share the double bed?” she asked him with a scowl.

“There were two. The first was to draw the roommates.”

“Excuse me?” 

“Wait, you didn’t know? But Hashirama tells you everything,” he said in an unbelieving tone, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I didn’t know,” she exclaimed miffed. “Looks like I’ll have to talk to my husband about even more things now.”

Hashirama was in so much trouble, he almost pitied him. Almost.

“Wait, didn’t you throw me that look so I’ll stop fussing around about the roommate arrangement back outside?”

“I gave you lot that look because you were taking so long and it was very hot outside. I didn’t want Tobirama to sleep on a bench while we burn our pale skin either.”

Oh.

“So, what now? Do you want to give Hashirama an ass-kicking?” he suggested, crossing his arms.

“Oh, believe me, I do,” she said, a slightly too wide smile stretching her red, painted lips. It was starting to give him the creeps even though he hadn’t even done anything wrong as far as he was concerned. “But tucking in Tobira is more important for now.”

He nodded, stepping back to open his luggage and get a fresh shirt to put on as she pulled the albino’s shoes off.

“Could you perhaps lend me some kind of top for him to sleep in?”

He turned around with a questioning look on his face. The albino adored his sister-in-law, surely he wouldn’t mind her looking through his suitcase for something to use as a pyjama, right?

“He probably won’t be happy that I am telling you this but he packed his suitcase the night before the flight amidst studying,” she began, trying not to smile. “Please don’t tell him, I told you.”

He nodded for her to continue.

“You might not know since he usually is very tidy with everything else, but he gets downright messy and chaotic amidst study binges,” she admitted. “I am afraid that his suitcase might look like a horrible mess since he was expecting to share a room with Itama and I’d rather not be the one to officially expose it.”

Snorting, he turned back around to get a worn, soft sweatshirt out. 

“No problem, since I was expecting to share a room with Izuna who loves to secretly steal my clothes like the little brat he is, I packed more than I need,” he explained as he handed her the plum coloured shirt with a grin.

“Thank you.” She laughed.

More importantly, though, he would not miss the chance nor complain about Tobirama in his clothes. 

His thin, too big shirt would probably accentuate the albino’s lithe frame just right, and cascade in all the best ways. He had chosen that shirt on purpose as it was one of his favourites, being so soft and well worn but still in a nice enough condition, so Tobirama wouldn’t assume that he had given him something with less value. He had decided on the thin shirt because it was so warm and not so it would accentuate the albino’s nicely shaped—okay, no, he needed to stop his thoughts before they went down the gutter.

Some cooling down would do him good about now. Because of the heat, not Tobirama in his clothes! He was all sweaty from the journey.

Absolutely. 

Definitely.

Clothes in hand he ducked into the bathroom.

When he came back out of the room, indeed feeling much fresher, Mito had already helped the albino change and was finishing wrapping him in the blanket on his side of the bed.

“Are you trying to make a burrito out of him?” He huffed out with an airy laugh.

“Might as well since he took his pants off,” she warned him with an apologetic smile as his eyes widened. “But don’t worry, he doesn’t really move around in his sleep, so you should be safe as long as he’s a Tobirama burrito.”

Mito knew about his, well, it wasn’t really a crush. Not at all. Just a weird temporary… interest. Yes. Probably even that was a much too strong word. 

Whatever it was, it had drunkenly slipped out of his treacherous mouth a couple years ago after one of Hashirama’s poker nights when they had indulged a bit too much. 

Fortunately, he had been the last guest of their round as he had been supposed to stay the night and only his best friend and Mito had heard his drunken confession as Kawarama had been at his girlfriend’s at that time and Itama and Tobirama had been having a sleepover with Izuna at Madara’s house. 

He was really glad that neither Hashirama nor Mito were the kind of person to make fun of him for such things. They were seriously good and supportive friends. He probably didn’t even deserve them if he were honest.

“I already texted him all the info he needs for if he should wake up in utter confusion,” Mito explained as she put the Senju’s phone and the room’s keycard on Madara’s side of the bed. “Do you have your key to the room? I wanted to leave his next to him if he need to leave the room or join us.”

He pulled said card out of his wallet and held it up.

“Good.”

“Would you like to freshen up while I try to reach the others?” He asked her out of politeness, even though his hopes for doing so were very low.

“Sure, thank you.”

Of course, he had been right and by the time Mito came out of the bathroom, looking more like her usual put together self, none of the three picked up their phone, so the two of them closed the door and went to the bar. 

Well, they tried to because when they left the elevator, suddenly the three missing idiots were standing there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse any errors as I typed most of this with one hand because I hurt my left arm and more in an accidental dive off of a very long staircase :<.
> 
> Hope you liked the chapter, though
> 
> -
> 
> Oh and in case you want to privately hit me up about any of my works or MadaTobi :>, please feel free to do so on [Tumblr](https://aurora-nuova.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aurora_nuova)


	3. Great Escape

Madara growled in mounting annoyance when he saw the trio of idiots.

At least Hashirama and Itama had the decency to look remotely guilty in contrast to Izuna’s almost smug look when the brat lifted his face from his phone as Mito and Madara fully left the elevator.

Oh, that little shit had forgotten that he still had his hotel bracelet which allowed him to order anything. But more importantly, any drinks in the hotel’s private bars.

However, now his younger brother could kiss it goodbye until tomorrow. At the least.

Let’s see how he liked _that_.

Madara quickly took a look at Mito’s expression from the corner of his eyes when she bumped his upper arm, subtly shaking her head and failed to stifle his snort at her frosty look when she looked past the other three.

Oh damn.

Hashirama would need to _seriously beg_.

The Uchiha already was looking forward to that unquestionably amusing show of such a hunk of a man desperately bent to such a petite woman’s every whim as if his life depended on it. True, the brunette was the one in possession of her key card but he would not dare to withhold it to avoid upsetting her.

Upsetting his darling wife was one of his least favourite things to do, after all.

A content Mito usually resulted in a happy Hashirama and the other way around, so seeing them fight was a rarity because Hashirama would bend over backwards if it meant it pleased his wife—all within reason of course—and Mito in return usually too liked to keep him in a good mood. So things like this were an exciting rarity as the pair in question liked to make up very fast and mostly even avoided any pouty or huffy phases.

Trying not to grin like an excited idiot was getting more difficult as he couldn’t even imagine what smooth-as-hell Mito had in store for the poor idiots.

The redhead in question meaningfully glanced back at Madara, their eyes meeting for a second or two. Catching her meaning, he tried to not drop his stern façade with mixed success as they simply walked past the very confused trio as if they were complete strangers.

If he were honest, this form of revenge was not really his usual style of doing things—he preferred to hand idiots their asses on a silver platter to let off some steam— but he knew that it was the most effective with every single one of those three, unfortunately.

Izuna hated being ignored because it was messing with his inflated ego, Hashirama was like a little, hurt puppy who wilted like a flower left out in the sun without being watered for too long if exposed to such behaviour and Itama was more or less a mix of all of his brothers but had taken after Hashirama the most in this regard.

Mito was a genius.

And wow, she must’ve been seriously pissed if she was ruthlessly and knowingly going for their balls like that.

He reminded himself to never cross her too badly, lest she went for his weak spots and annihilated him like that. After so many years of friendship, the three knew each other almost intimately.

“Mito?” Hashirama’s hurt and surprised voice tailed them. “Madara?”

“Seriously?!” Izuna chimed in utterly offended when the brunette got no response and stomped his foot before noisily running after them to catch up. “Stop ignoring us!”

However, they did exactly the opposite and looked down at their phones or simply around the lobby while chatting until they reached one of the bars, a whining Hashirama and the other two boys—one very prissy, frowning like the world had offended him and the other confused and slightly glassy-eyed—following them like little ducklings.

This was actually not bad but he probably would stick to his own methods the next time any of them tried something. Somehow he missed the incredibly satisfying part where people looked like they were about to cry out of fear while he verbally annihilated them. Good times.

Entering the room, Mito chose a table for two—at which point he seriously was struggling to keep his face blank and his silently shaking shoulders still—and they simply sat down like they had all the time in the world.

Hashirama was practically begging next to the table in a squat while the younger Uchiha and Senju had taken a seat at a neighbouring table and were watching the scene unfold with varying reactions. Though, there was one they both had in common: _second-hand embarrassment._

The older Uchiha smirked.

When a waiter approached them and opened his mouth, Madara wasn’t prepared for the glorious question.

“Good evening, is this man bothering you?” the man politely asked with a descending look at his best friend.

Madara quickly covered his mouth and feigned a cough to cover up his surprised bark of laughter.

Mito took an extensive look at Hashirama’s crestfallen face, probably saw his terribly sorry eyes—as he had already dropped the show act a few minutes ago and looked truly guilt-stricken—and sighed.

“No, everything is fine, thank you,” she answered the man over her shoulder with a smile.

“Very well, would you like to order or are you still deciding?” the waiter asked, stealing unbelieving glances at the brunette man kneeling next to the table.

“We’d like a few more minutes,” the older Uchiha chimed in with a grin after he cleared his throat.

“Of course.”

Hashirama immediately grasped the redhead’s hands in his much bigger ones, almost dwarfing hers when the other man left with a short nod.

“Mito, are you talking to me again?” he asked her with sad eyes and softly squeezed her fingers.

“That depends,” the woman replied with a scowl.

Hopeful brown eyes met theirs.

“Where were you?” Mito asked him flatly.

“Izuna and I really needed to pee-“

“There are guest bathrooms in the lobby,” she interrupted him, tone utterly dry.

“But you know how Izuna can’t pee in public places,” Hashirama stage whispered with a scowl of his own. “He’s just like Madara who can’t go if someone’s behind him!”

“Hey!” The older Uchiha immediately groused, slamming the table but promptly got ignored.

“Still. We could have seriously injured ourselves when Tobirama tripped and I couldn’t hold him up anymore,” Mito reasoned, scowl intensifying. “And don’t start with Madara, he is not his older brother who should’ve taken care of him.”

“I am so sorry, honey!”

He even sounded like he meant it and judging by Mito’s thoughtful face, unfortunately, he was basically already mostly forgiven.

Madara almost pouted when it looked like the brunette would be off the hook just like that but then Mito’s eyebrows suddenly furrowed again and she delicately sniffed in offence.

Oh?

“Why was I not informed about your plan with the polls?”

Oh, she was bitter about _that_ , good luck then, Hashirama.

All of them knew that she could bear grudges like a pro and was only second in that regard to—no, not himself, even if Izuna loved to claim otherwise—to Izuna himself in fact. At least, if you asked him, as the much more reasonable and perfectly mature sibling, of course. His grudges were no joke. The brat still was mad at the little accident Madara had with one of his stupid science projects back in high school as if that hadn’t been years ago and by complete mistake.

The corners of his mouth lifted again just as Hashirama’s eyes widened.

“I really can’t tell you-“ Mito shot him a look and the brunette sighed utterly defeated. “Not here at least?”

“Fine.”

Damn it! They at least could have let him hear it. After all, he was the one fucked over the most in all of this, he thought disgruntled.

However, the couple moved over to the bar to get their usual drinks and used the moment to talk.

When they came back, the Senju was apologetic and the Uzumaki’s face was a mix between exasperation and surrender.

“Let’s change places to accommodate the rest of you,” Mito said, addressing the other two and Hashirama.

Madara shot her a surprised look. Well, whatever they had talked about had apparently worked in the brunette’s favour.

How unfortunate, it seemed like most of the show was over already.

He pouted.

Mito discretely nudged him when the others were distracted with the relocation and drinks.

“He is sleeping on the couch in our room,” she whispered and he grinned at her in amusement.

That was something.

Finally fully seated at a bigger table with the other three, drinks in front of them, conversation started to flow to more usual subjects and even he himself was in a too good mood to actively hold a grudge. Which did not mean that he was not mad still, just that it was a problem for tomorrow’s Madara when he wasn’t as tired from their trip. The older Uchiha leaned back in his seat, cracking his neck in the process.

Izuna pouted.

“I need pretty hands,” the younger Uchiha next to him mumbled and looked around, eyes zeroing in on Hashirama’s hand. “Not you.”

“Hey now!” the brunette man immediately exclaimed whining, almost spilling his drink in a wide hand movement.

“No offence but what you’re wearing is not my social media aesthetic,” Izuna sniffed with a face as if he had smelled something unpleasant. “To put it very nicely, since you bought my drink because I couldn’t thanks to a certain _someone_.”

He sounded very bitter, good.

The brunette opened his mouth to defend himself and his style.

“You’re welcome,” the younger Uchiha interrupted him and sipped said drink with a scowl directed at his older brother.

“You still haven’t posted? Isn’t your usual post time over already?” Itama asked surprised as he put his own cocktail down to look at his friend.

“No and yes. But a late post is better than none at all,” Izuna answered him thoughtfully, looking around their table.

Madara sipped his drink in complete confusion when Izuna’s eyes landed on him.

“Can I flex with your muscles?”

“What now?”

“Usually, I often get Tobi to hold things for my posts and stories since his—I quote—‘pale and pretty hands’ have their own creepy fan page but thanks to you guys, that is currently impossible,” Izuna drawled with another pout and furrowed eyebrows.

The older Uchiha furrowed his own eyebrows even more and grunted in utter confusion.

“You seriously do not watch any of my stories nor posts, huh?” the younger stated with an unhappy tone. “Whatever. People dig the aesthetic of his hands, so he helps me out and some thirsty people created a fan page.”

“Wait, you actually were serious?” Madara turned his head to shoot his little brother a surprised look.

People like that existed? Well, social media definitely wasn’t his forte. The most he did was watch funny animal videos that Hashirama kept on sending him.

“Of course, though fortunately, nobody knows how he looks like since he only has private social media accounts where he doesn’t post any pictures of himself,” his younger sibling explained bored. “Don’t look at me like that, being pale or muscular is trending right now.”

Itama eagerly nodded his head.

The hell?

“Okay. So you want me to hold your drink for a picture?”

“Pretty much since your style isn’t as horrible that people would think that someone unfashionable stole my account and was trying to emulate me.”

Hashirama’s protesting whine made Mito huff a laugh as Itama tried not to openly laugh at his Anija.

“What do you mean by _not that unfashionable_? Then why are you always stealing my shit when it’s not nice stuff, huh?” the older Uchiha asked, shooting him a smug look.

“Well, it’s kinda vintage, I guess,” Izuna huffed a laugh.

“Watch it!” Madara growled with a grin, swatting at the other who avoided being hit, cackling like the little menace he was.

A few short hours and drinks later—though not remotely as many as usual because all of them were pretty exhausted—everyone in their group leaving the elevator bid him goodbye.

Earlier in the evening, he had been made aware that all of them were on different floors of the hotel due to their late booking and that they were lucky to even get any rooms in the first place thanks to Hashirama’s membership status. So he wasn’t too surprised when he was alone with another tipsy patron of the hotel sneaking glances at him. Or at least, he thought she was as the interior of this deathtrap was spinning slightly, though he definitely was not drunk.

Not at all, just a teeny bit tipsy, if even that, as he was still able to walk.

Suddenly, the _ding_ of the elevator reaching a stop startled him out of his thoughts and he clumsily fled it—to the best of his abilities with an increasingly upset stomach he might say—when he belatedly recognized it as his floor before that woman could get the wrong idea.

Elevators and spinning rooms definitely didn’t mix well, he thought with a grimace. The vertigo was horrible.

Reaching his door after he felt slightly better, he groaned in complete annoyance when he dropped the stupid keycard and slowly squatted to retrieve it. The movement made the stupid room spin even more ferociously and he had to lean his head against the cool surface of the doorway to take a few calming breaths.

Okay, maybe he subconsciously had crossed the line of _tipsy_ to _slightly drunk_ after all, he begrudgingly admitted to himself with a sigh.

Slowly standing with the help of the door and thanks to his sheer stubbornness—he honestly was relieved that the hotel didn’t have actual keys as that would’ve taken even longer—he finally swiped the card on his fourth try to open the door.

Slinking inside the blessedly cool and dark room, he made his way over to the bed after he got rid of his shoes and stilled at the lump under one of the blankets as he put his keycard down.

His muddled thoughts screeched to a sudden halt.

Shoot, right, now he remembered what he had forgotten to talk about with Hashirama.

His shared room with Tobirama.

He scowled.

Now everyone was either too drunk or tipsy to do much about it, even Mito who had been under the influence visibly when she had left the elevator with her more or less drunk husband.

Well, whatever, the albino sounded deeply asleep—it was too dark to make out much besides the calm and deep breaths—and he himself was increasingly becoming more and more exhausted, too.

Fuck it, it couldn’t hurt to share a double bed, right?

He might’ve been a bit biased by the drinks he had but who cared? Not him at the moment.

The Uchiha heavily sat on his side of said bed, making it dip down and almost resulted in him sliding straight off of it when he lost his already unsteady balance.

After making sure the room slowed to it’s occasional, sluggish spin from before, Madara patted the surface of his own blanket to find and pick up the other’s keycard and phone to place the items on his nightstand before he lifted the blanket to clumsily slide under the covers himself.

The Uchiha sniffed affronted as he got his own phone out of his pant pocket because it had jabbed into him uncomfortably and put it next to the other one on his bedside table.

Screw undressing. Too bothersome.

Pulling the soft and cool blanket up to his shoulders, he belatedly realized that Tobirama was facing him, bracketed by the moonlight streaming in from the window behind him, haloing his white hair.

So pretty and tempting. The older man hummed in interest.

He’d love to slide his hand through the wispy hair so unlike his own but being tipsy did not make it okay to make grabby hands at the peacefully sleeping, younger man without permission.

He pouted.

Even if he really wanted to.

Madara quickly pulled the fabric up to his chin to avoid reaching out on impulse.

The Uchiha would’ve turned around to face away from him to spare them any additional awkwardness tomorrow but just the thought of lying on his other side made phantom pain flare up thanks to an injury he had gotten on a more dangerous job out in the field. But his sluggish and fuzzy mind didn’t let him come up with the details right now, too slowed from the many drinks and maybe a bit too distracted by the very appealing view.

Where was he?

Ah, right. Fact was, it still hurt enough to be too distracting and unpleasant to fall asleep on when he put too much weight on it.

Tiredly sighing, his treacherous gaze slid back over to the unfairly pretty Senju.

Madara’s eyes had slowly gotten used to the dark so he blearily could make out some of the albino’s sharp features he so liked as Tobirama softly scrunched up his nose, probably dreaming something.

 _Cute_ , the Uchiha thought with a sleepy and sappy smile before a sudden idea struck him.

“Hey, Tobirama?” he whispered giddily.

Nothing. He pouted.

“Tobirama? Hey,” the semi sloshed man tried a bit louder.

A hum. Madara grinned.

Jackpot.

“Actually, is your name Senju McStupid?” He waited with bated breath, shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth.

Another agreeing hum. The Uchiha laughed as quiet as he could.

Okay, what else was there? It was getting harder to think, uh.

Oh, he knew!

“Tobirama, do you think the earth is flat?” He asked and snorted when the albino agreed.

This was hilarious, he could ask him anything and would receive a positive answer regardless of what the other originally thought. Prime entertainment because the other usually had a stick up his unfairly perky butt.

Suddenly, the Uchiha stilled as another idea came to mind, a much more pathetic one but his drink addled mind didn’t really care.

“Hey, Tobirama?” He hesitated uncharacteristically.

“Do you like me?”

Immediate regret about his decision flooded him until he heard the agreeing hum that made him embarrassingly giddy.

Sure, he didn’t know whether that really would be the other’s choice in answer if asked while conscious but it still had felt nice to be able to utter that question aloud.

For being so outspoken, asking that question was surprisingly hard.

He shifted a bit in a fit of drunken giddiness until his eyes got too heavy to keep them open.

Unsure what must’ve woken him, he was at least pleasantly warm and comfortable when his befuddled mind realized that he must’ve somehow gained consciousness.

So comfortable, in fact, that his body was starting to relax again while his consciousness began drifting between being awake and falling asleep as he nuzzled his face into the softness in front of him with a sigh when suddenly a warm hand softly squeezed his thigh.

Opening his eyes in surprise as he leaned up a bit—heartbeat increasing in alarm—Madara came face to face with Tobirama’s profile, ruby eyes twinkling in the dark and looking back at him with an unreadable emotion as the albino continued to caress his thigh, hand slowly but dangerously inching higher towards the seam of his underwear.

_What?_

When he couldn’t seem to find his voice, he shot the other a dumbfounded look instead.

Ignoring his perplexed state, Tobirama shifted slightly so that he could languidly push his back flush against the Uchiha's front, in return making him involuntarily tighten his arm, which he must have thrown around the Senju's lithe midriff in their sleep.

His confusion only multiplied when the white-haired man he was currently spooning seemed to take that as an affirmation and shifted to invitingly push his plush behind into his groin. The Uchiha’s blood immediately started flowing south as his breath stuttered in surprised pleasure.

He hummed in interest as he leaned up even higher, temperature of the room too rising, as he took in the other’s pretty face, a soft pink flush slowly spreading over the albino’s features as his thumb started up lazy circles on the other’s tensing stomach.

Pausing to moisten his suddenly parched mouth, Madara unsuccessfully licked his equally dry lips, catching the immediate attention of the other’s attentive eyes before he opened his mouth to attempt to speak again.

Tobirama, never one to miss an opportunity, however, leaned up on his own elbow and reached behind himself with the hand that previously had been massaging the Uchiha’s thigh to grab Madara’s nape and pull him down into a mind-blowing, messy kiss.

Vigorously returning the assault on his mouth, the older man groaned as his mind temporarily blanked in bliss.

Maybe he had been _a bit more interested_ than he had been willing to admit, after all.

Sue him.

Finding out the why’s of the current situation was abruptly sinking on his list of priorities as heat started pooling in his groin, resulting in the need to touch the other skyrocketing on said list in an almost embarrassing speed.

Never one to be outmaneuvered, Madara raked his blunt nails over the ridges and grooves of the other’s lithe stomach under _his shirt_ the other was wearing, garnering him a surprised gasp and goosebumps rising on the pale skin as he licked his way inside that tempting mouth with a rumbling, possessive growl.

Panting and parting for air after a few more breathless nips to kiss-swollen lips, the Uchiha used the situation to mouth along a clothed, pale shoulder before he rolled his hips forward, making the albino groan hoarsely and arch back into him.

The Senju opened his mouth, as the older man grabbed the other’s hand in his hair to pull it to his face instead and give its palm a heartfelt kiss but suddenly a loud and hazy noise interrupted him.

Startling awake with a pained growl, Madara caught the last seconds of his phone ringing before it suddenly cut off.

Not even bothering to open his eyes to not further agitate his cursed hangover, he subconsciously nuzzled into Izuna’s back with an annoyed groan at the unwelcome and abrupt halt to the highly enjoyable dream he just had.

Who of the fucking assholes had not gotten the memo that he wanted to sleep in for once? If his damned phone would start ringing again, he would eviscerate whoever dared to disturb him _very_ _slowly_.

Thankfully it didn’t, so the older Uchiha reflexively shifted his hips away from his brother’s back as far away as he could, being wrapped in his snug blanket the way he was, because he was just too tired and hungover to get rid of his semi. It would be awkward as hell for both of them if Izuna woke up and felt his current predicament, though, Madara thought grimacing.

His muscles were relaxing and he had been dozing off again when the younger man in front of him shifted, the ends of his incredibly soft, wispy hair tickling the Uchiha’s face.

Scrunching up his nose with an exhale, he shifted into a more comfortable position that would rid him of the tingly sensation. Burying his face into the pillow, he tightened his arm around the blanket burrito he was cuddling.

Said blanket burrito exhaled with a low hum.

Madara immediately stilled.

That definitely hadn’t been Izuna’s voice.

Wait, wispy hair? His brother’s hair was soft but not wispy.

His eyes shot open and his vision was filled with white. White, indeed wispy hair to be precise.

Trying to scoot back as far as he could in a hurry, the mattress dangerously dipped behind him as he attempted to detangle his arm from beneath the albino’s head in fluster.

Succeeding in doing so with an abrupt pull made him lose his balance and tumble off the bed in a tangle of blankets and limbs, head catching on the edge of the nightstand, making it wobble dangerously. He fell onto his other side in a rainfall of phones and keycards with a pained shout.

“Fuck!” the Uchiha exclaimed in a mix of pain and rage, clumsily rolling on his back while curling in on himself with a tight grimace. “Fucking hell!”

Pressing a hand each to his hurting side and throbbing head, he growled and uselessly kicked with one of his tangled legs in explosive anger, only resulting in a flopping movement like a stranded fish when the blanket, wrapped around his lower half, didn’t budge much.

He clenched his teary eyes shut when his hangover let him know just how little any of his recent actions were appreciated.

A gasp from above led him to squint a bleary eye open, only to stare at the room’s fine interior from his low vantage point down on the floor. A few seconds in utter misery passed before a concerned and sleepy face greeted him as the albino leaned over the edge of the mattress to look down at him.

“Are you okay?” Came the slightly hesitant and almost whispered inquiry.

Madara closed his eyes.

Great.

“Just peachy,” he groused out, re-opening his eyes to present the other with a pained grin that probably looked more akin to a grimace.

“Did you hit your head?” Tobirama asked him with a worried scowl, squinting eyes locking on his hand, protectively cradling his throbbing head.

“A bit, ah,” he said, slowly rolling onto his uninjured side before checking for any blood in his hair. “I think, I might be sick, though—Oh, never mind, false alarm.”

The albino’s eyes widened. “Do you want me to get Anija to check you for a concussion?”

“Nah, it’s fine, I’m just a bit hungover,” he admitted with a deep sigh when his hand came away clean.

He received a sleepy, puzzled look.

“We went down to the bar for drinks while you were asleep,” Madara explained as he slowly sat up and picked up the other’s fallen items to put them back on the cursed bedside table.

“I see,” Tobirama answered thoughtfully as his ruffled head disappeared from his side to shuffle over to his own side of the bed, or at least the rustling sounded like it before it stopped.

A few short minutes passed in awkward silence like that, with nobody moving.

Well, this was great.

Not that it hadn’t been awkward before but it was getting worse and worse. At least his body had decided that the blood that had accumulated south was needed elsewhere when he had hit his head and side.

The Uchiha grabbed his own items off the floor to put them into his pant pockets.

Time to get out of here.

“I’m heading to Izuna’s room to get my shower stuff,” the Uchiha offered with a grunt, gradually standing up—to not further upset his stomach, mind you—with the help of the equally cursed bed that previously had abandoned him.

He didn’t see the confused look the albino threw at his back as he turned around to get a change of clothes and everything else he needed to leave.

On his way to Izuna’s and Itama’s room, he realized that he hadn’t even given anyone any heads up in his haste to get away. Sure, Mito had offered him to use their hotel room’s bathroom—if things predictably got too awkward between him and his roommate—yesterday over drinks but they hadn’t talked about any specifics.

Surprising Itama should be fine probably and Izuna would still be asleep but Mito and Hashirama were early birds and who knew what they were doing or how annoyed Mito would get if he interrupted anything—steamy or not—so he called her.

“Good morning,” the redhead’s calm voice greeted him.

“Hey, yes, morning. Remember how I told you and Hash-brown that I was agreeing to use your bathroom for showers and stuff if the room constellation stays like this?”

She hummed on the other end.

“Can I use it in approximately five to ten minutes after I get my shower stuff from Izuna or are you _busy_?” he offered her with a grimace she probably could hear in the tone of his voice as the doors of the elevator opened.

“Sure,” she answered with a light huff, amusement clearly colouring her voice. “No, don’t worry.”

He sighed relieved and punched in Izuna’s floor level when the doors closed.

“Alright, see you in ten.”

“Until then.” She ended the call.

Suddenly his phone buzzed with a new text message as the elevator began its descent. _So did you get any?_ He stared puzzled at Kawarama’s message. What? Since when were they so close that—his phone buzzed with another text from the same Senju. _My bad, wrong chat!_

He grinned derisively.

_Who were you trying to text?_

_No way haha, that’s a secret! Sorry, have a nice day._

_K. You too._

He wouldn’t get an answer if Kawarama didn’t want to reveal anything thanks to the Senju stubbornness he had wholeheartedly inherited.

Well, whatever.

Just to be sure, he texted Itama shortly before he arrived in front of their door. _Can I come over and get something out of Izuna's luggage?_

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long for an answer.

_No prob._

So he knocked.

“Morning!” the youngest Senju greeted him all chipper and the Uchiha didn’t even have a single doubt which brother he took more after in the morning when a wide awake and happy face appeared.

“Morning," the Uchiha huffed amused as he stepped into the dim room.

As predicted, Izuna was still asleep, snoring softly. Well, soft might’ve been too kind of a description, he mused as the noises reached a new crescendo.

"How don't you get annoyed by that?" the older man asked the youngest Senju sitting on his unmade bed as he himself kneeled down by his own brother's luggage with a pained grimace to find his desired cargo.

"You know that it's nothing compared to Anija's snoring," the younger answered with a light laugh, as his phone suddenly lit up his face.

“Still,” the older huffed out, headache increasing thanks to the unrelenting droning sounds. “I already would’ve rattled him awake to stop the annoying woodcutting if I were you.”

That earned him a highly amused laugh.

Of course, he could do just that regardless but he wouldn’t.

Not for Izuna’s benefit or anything ridiculous like that but because the snoring menace wouldn’t hand over his miraculous styling product without an attempt to screw him over first and he had already embarrassed himself in front of the albino today more than enough to last him a few days at the least.

He needed to pick up the slack and get some brownie points, not be the cause of Tobirama choking on tea or something because his mane would without a doubt look even more ridiculous after a much-needed wash in such a humid climate.

Madara not so gently laid down and opened the suitcase to search through the mess his younger brother called ‘packed luggage’. One would think the brat was old enough to sufficiently pack his shit but alas, he wasn’t, or well, leaned to the messier and much more chaotic side of things at least.

Suddenly, a shutter noise made him stop his ministrations and look back over his shoulder with furrowed brows. Had the boy just seriously taken a picture?

"Why did you do that?"

"Tobi-Nii thinks you came up with that shower stuff affair you apparently told him about as a pretext to get away,” the bi-coloured boy replied distracted as he typed away on his phone. “So I wanted to show him evidence that you, in fact, were doing what you told him.”

"What?" he asked puzzled as he could hear the telling sound of incoming messages inside a chat and even more typing from Itama.

Leave it to the youngest and eldest Senju siblings to actually use that annoying typing sound smartphones had activated when you freshly got them. Sensible people shut that off the minute they turned on their device for the first time. But not these two.

"I shouldn't be telling you this," the short Senju said with a small smile as he was pausing his writing to look up at him. "But he's really mad at Anija for this whole room situation."

Madara paused, stomach feeling increasingly funky and the urge to go and throw up rising as first dredges of dread started to settle.

"If he's so mad," the Uchiha sighed out with a scowl, mood minutely souring. "Mito offered to shuffle everyone around or even share this room with him since there are single beds in here if we don't get along.”

Itama shot him an uncharacteristic look he couldn’t interpret for the life of him. Was he amused or was there a knowing or scheming glint in the other’s eyes? Who knew, not him apparently.

Screw all of this.

“I’m not sure if that’s his problem,” the shorter boy offered unhelpfully with a huff.

He hummed in agitated confusion and turned back to the luggage.

Whatever.

"Why the hell is this so chaotic and where the hell did he put it?" the Uchiha mumbled out to himself in mounting irritation.

Why did everyone and everything have to be so annoyingly complicated today?

He heatedly glared at the chaotic interior of the suitcase.

"Izu already put all of his cosmetic and shower stuff into the bathroom yesterday,” Itama offered helpfully albeit a bit late, making Madara groan.

Of course.

He got up and vanished into said bathroom to take the items so he could get out of there, Izuna’s noise disturbance was starting to drive him nuts.

Having found and taken his precious cargo into his possession, he quickly stepped out of the bathroom and to the hotel room’s entrance.

"Thanks, I'm off then.”

"Okay.” Was Itama’s distracted reply as Madara left the room without even closing or righting Izuna’s luggage.

Another elevator ride later, he knocked on the married couple's door just shy of too hard. Immediately another happy face greeted him.

He scowled.

“Good morning, friend!”

Definitely siblings.

His scowl turned into a full-on glare.

Tobirama probably hadn't texted Hashirama his dissertation on what the tan man had done wrong in detail yet. Why would he be so happy otherwise? It looked like it would turn into a not so nice surprise at breakfast for him then.

Not his problem.

"How did you sleep?" Hashirama excitedly asked him before his face fell when he saw his look. “Why do you look so grumpy?”

The Uchiha was always amazed at how much energy the other had at the start of each day but today was a very bad day for that restless and irritating behaviour.

He heatedly glared at the taller man before he pushed his way into the room in silence.

“Don’t be like that, Madara. What happened?”

“Your stupid poll did,” the Uchiha growled but only received a puzzled puppy stare.

"Well, thanks to that I thought I was sharing a bed with Izuna and fell out of bed and hit my head when I realized I wasn't—," he grumbled out enraged.

"Oh no, what?" his best friend interjected concerned before he even could continue the very long list of complaints and pulled him over to the double bed to make him sit down facing the light of the balcony. "Where? Here?"

He grunted at the prodding fingers as Mito came back inside the room from her relaxed lounging with a cup of tea.

"What happened?" she asked intrigued, her dress and the curtains softly billowing behind her in the morning light.

"He hit his head, so I'm checking him for a concussion," her husband answered her in a concentrated tone.

The Uzumaki hummed before she took a delicate sip.

"Relax, it’s not that bad-" Madara attempted to swat the big hands molesting his head away without much success as Hashirama had already entered his Dr. Senju mode.

"Mito can you take a look, too?"

The woman in question softly placed her teacup down and approached him with an amused half-smile.

Madara was well aware that even if he would’ve had some kind of concussion—which he obviously didn’t—she wouldn’t have made a fuss about it after all the things she had witnessed as a surgeon having done a huge part of her residency at an ER. A concussion wouldn’t be a joking matter to her but wouldn’t make her break a sweat either so he let her take a look.

"Doesn't look too bad," she said after she softly patted down his pulsing bump and picked up her teacup.

"Does your head hurt? Do you feel nauseous? Or—" Hashirama somehow asked him calmly but urgently.

"Yes, but I felt like that before I slammed my head into the nightstand," he interrupted the stupid waterfall of concerned questions and crossed his arms with a put upon huff.

That only got him another worried look.

"Honey," the redhead slowly said with an amused smile as she sat back down on an armchair close by. "You two had quite a few drinks yesterday, remember? You always keep forgetting that not everyone is as resistant to hangovers as you."

"Oh! I hadn't considered that," the brunette laughed relieved—he was easily worried for anyone in need but especially his loved ones—and clapped him on his shoulder, making him grimace. "Do you want something for that then instead?"

"Yeah, why not," the Uchiha groused out, suppressing an unwelcome and fond smile trying to creep its way onto his features—he was still mad, after all— as Hashirama went to search through one of their bags.

Having two doctors as close friends was rather convenient, he mused, not for the first nor last time as he accepted the pills and glass of water.

“He does look a bit rough, though,” Mito chimed in with an amusedlift of her brow that earned her a grumpy and offended scowl by the Uchiha. “Honey, why don’t you go down and get him one of your hangover smoothies and more tea for me?” She looked up at Hashirama with a mild but expectant look.

“Yes, of course, dear,” the brunette immediately replied and got up before he left the room with a wave without so much as a pout.

Madara shot the Uzumaki a begrudgingly amused smirk.

“He’s still making things up to you, isn’t he?” he said, a bit of satisfaction colouring his tone. “You’re still mad at him, too.”

“Of course, I am. His idea bore no ill intent but his execution does not sit well with me.”

He hummed, readjusting the change of clothes in his hand before rising to his feet to get that shower over with.

However, standing in the bathroom, he groaned irritated.

“What is it? Do you need me to leave so you can relieve yourself?” Came the almost smug reply.

“That too,” he replied in a murmur with an embarrassed scowl. “But it was rather because I forgot to bring a towel.”

“You’re in luck as Hashirama and I showered together and only used two of the many towels, so feel right at home,” she revealed in a suggestive tone, leaving her spot on the armchair to approach him.

He stared at her in confusion until the meaning behind the first half of her sentence abruptly sank in, prompting him to wince.

“Ew, why are you telling me that you two did—,” he started and then made heaving sounds. “—did _that_ in there?”

She laughed merrily.

“Just so that you don’t get any ideas to do anything funky in there, too,” the redhead said with an amused lift to her eyebrow. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you kept your groin covered with your spare clothes all this time.”

He stared at her affronted. “As if I wanted to do something like that with any of you in the vicinity,” he replied spluttering.

“Just saying, don’t even think about touching anything below the belt unless it is for cleaning purposes,” she added, lifting her finger in a playful warning.

“Shut up!” he shouted as he shut the door with a bang in flustered rage, only to hear her renewed but muffled laugh. “I thought you were on my side, you witch!”

“If I didn’t know that you’re only saying this to cover up your embarrassment, I’d rip out your genitals for that, grumpy!” she exclaimed in amusement, her voice reaching him dully from outside. “I need to make sure that you don’t take my kindness for granted.”

“You don’t have to worry about that!” he shouted so she’d hear him through the closed door before he heard her continued muffled cackle.

“I’m on the balcony for a bit so you can pee!”

He growled, face heating up but started to get his business done as quickly as possible.

Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped his wrung out hair and himself each in a big, fluffy towel and stood before the mirror when he remembered what other item he had forgotten.

“Fuck!” He tightly grabbed his wrapped hair in despair.

“What?” Came the distracted and muffled question from outside.

“I forgot my toothbrush back in my room,” he growled with a wince at the stale and horrible taste in his mouth that a night of drinking was wont to unsurprisingly result in.

Sure, it was just a minor detail but he had wanted to go back to an undeniably awake Tobirama looking and feeling his prime but life kept on unfairly punishing him. What the hell had he even done to upset the cosmos?

“Relax. Open the green bag, there’s a pair of new ones,” Mito replied mildly, voice unbothered.

“Okay, but why do you have extras?” He looked at the pair of colourful toothbrushes innocently leaning in a cup below the mirror before he found and opened the mentioned bag.

“Itama tends to forget to pack his every time we go on vacation and I wasn’t sure whether Tobirama packed his in his exhaustion this time,” she offered in a calm tone. “But you may take one because Tobirama brought his.”

“Thanks.”

Hadn’t he been so annoyed at the world right now, he surely would’ve smiled at how motherly she secretly was with her in-laws, well, or rather how much she really had taken on the role of their older, thoughtful sister that protected them and made sure that they were properly cared for when their sometimes scatterbrained, older brother went out to save lives but involuntarily tended to forget about his close loved ones as a trade-off occasionally.

It wasn’t as if that was new information to him or anything but it still never ceased to amuse him that the elegant, sometimes scary Mito he had met so many years ago had such a soft spot for the ‘younger brothers’ she had gained by marrying Hashirama, he thought brushing his teeth.

A few minutes later, he huffed in irritation.

Great.

Blow drying and brushing his hair after he had gotten dressed had apparently been a horrible idea as his hair was leaving wet patches on his clothes everywhere while the stupid brush kept getting stuck. Usually, the Uchiha didn’t even use a blow dryer in the first place because he couldn’t be bothered but he honestly had not expected it to go _this badly._

Even worse, his hair kept puffing up in unforeseen ways even after the use of Izuna’s wonder product.

A string of colourful curses left his lips as he impatiently tried to rip the offending item out of his hair. Finally, he growled in unbridled rage when he irrevocably lost the last smidgen of patience he had when it got stuck again.

"Did you forget anything else?” Came the deceptively cheerful inquiry from outside. “Should we get you some ginkgo biloba for your forgetfulness?”

Failing to ignore her jab, he snapped and hurled his brush onto the floor with an aggressive shout when he finally succeeded to rip it out, a bunch of his hair included.

“I should just cut it off already!"

“Cut off what now?” The redhead’s voice suddenly came closer and there was a knock on the bathroom door. “Take a deep breath and open up, maybe I can help you out.”

A vein in his temple pulsing and gritting his teeth, he opened the bathroom door, only to catch Mito’s delicate snort as her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the wet patches on his clothes but especially the mess on his head.

“Oh wow,” she said, lips and voice quivering.

He glared and growled at her like an enraged animal through his teeth before he took a step back and attempted to hurl the door closed.

“Wait!” She rushed forward to brace her hand on the door so he wouldn’t close it into her face. “I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve never seen your hair like _that_ and the three of us have been friends since what, High School?” she defended herself and bit her twitching lip to not break out into an amused smile.

Well, what she had said was not wrong, as the three of them, including Hashirama, had seen each other in the wildest states over all those years. Breakups, injuries, promotions, Hashirama’s dramatic bachelor party and many other life-changing situations.

Still, it wasn’t helping his boiling anger.

The Uchiha took a few deep breaths and sighed as he opened the door wider and crossed his arms to lean against the doorframe of the bathroom with a frown.

“Listen, I’ll do your hair for you if you promise me something,” she suddenly offered and gave his shoulder a friendly pat. “And we can dry off your clothes when we’re done with it.”

He hummed, interest piqued.

“I know your bad mood and especially easy irritability today—“

He opened his mouth to protest but she held up a manicured hand.

“—stems from the unforeseen room arrangement but please don’t let off steam through Tobira when you go back, he too is a victim in this,” she said with a soft sigh, shifting her weight. “I’ll even do my best to assist you against any of Hashirama’s stunts on this vacation.”

It was a pretty good deal and upsetting Tobirama was not something he had planned either way, so he nodded.

“Deal, I’ll do my best.”

“Good,” she offered with a kind smile. “Now get that armchair over here, so we can try to tame the wild beast on your head.”

“You even up for that task?” he asked in jest.

“I’ve tamed much worse.” She sent him a playful and uncharacteristic smirk that he partially returned.

Approaching the comfortable looking chair Mito had lounged on earlier, he belatedly noticed the couch with a blanket and pillow from the bed.

He turned around with a huff.

“So you really made him sleep on a couch?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied in slight surprise, looking up from her phone she had picked up. “Did you think I was bluffing?”

No, he didn’t, seeing as the woman kept her promises but—

Wait.

“No, but how did you know that you guys had a couch when you promised that if you weren’t the one booking anything?”

Hashirama had offered to take over the task of finding and booking their rooms for this vacation as Mito had been far too busy at work to do that particular task like she usually tended to do—or at least helped out with it—as she was the organizational maniac between the two of them. He still remembered how happy Hashirama had been to lessen his very stressed and busy wife’s workload a bit.

“He sent me a picture of our room before he booked it to make sure it was to my taste,” she said thoughtfully.

“Did he show you the other rooms?”

“No.”

“Neither my nor the other room has a couch,” he grunted. “And this room hadn’t been up for debate since the beginning, even in the not too unrealistic case that I had to share a room with Tobirama.”

She hummed.

“He could’ve at least offered your room when it became clear that snowflake and I had to share a bed,” he growled. “It wouldn’t have even violated any of his stupid game rules!”

“True,” she said before she turned back to her phone. “Don’t worry, though. My offer to shuffle everyone around if things go south still stands.”

He huffed and brought the chair over to where Mito was and watched her type without taking a peek at her screen.

“Is Hashirama texting you?”

She looked up, amusement colouring her features.

“He was earlier but now Tobira is.”

Of course he would, Madara belatedly realized.

After all, the albino was a deeply curious person who wouldn’t rest until he got all the answers he was seeking and Mito was always the most informed in their little circle of friends and families. Izuna too knew an unreasonable amount about everyone’s business but Tobirama wasn’t his best friend for nothing and knew that any questions he might send him now would stay unanswered until breakfast when the other had somewhat regained his consciousness.

The older Uchiha had booked it out of that room before he could answer him more than one question, hadn’t he? Well, shit. Having slept through most of the day of course the albino would have a lot of unanswered questions.

“What does he write?” he asked, failing to both hide how much he wanted to know and how worried he suddenly was.

“You know, I can’t—nor will I—tell you,” she replied with a smile but took pity when she saw his expression. “Let’s say that I am getting him up to date by exchanging a few questions and answers.”

Oh no.

Swallowing to wet his suddenly dry mouth, he sat down on the chair. Originally, he hadn’t been too worried about yet another inappropriate dream about the snowflake but nobody but him knew about these. It wasn’t even that he was particularly ashamed about them but Mito and Hashirama were horrendously overprotective of ‘their’ inexperienced, little brother.

Sighing through his nose, he really hoped that Tobirama hadn’t told her anything. Maybe they could even try to attempt to work out that awkward situation in private.

“Fine,” she exclaimed with a sigh of her own. “He just told me about your guys’ little morning scene.”

He groaned.

“So you know?” He averted his eyes.

She definitely would murder him in cold blood now.

“Know what?”

“You know—,” he whined.

“I don’t understand, out with it, Uchiha!” she exclaimed impatiently and swatted his upper arm lightly.

“Ah, that I—well—poked him?” he admitted, fumbling over his own words with a grimace.

If he weren’t so damn flustered about the whole affair, he would have barked a laugh at the completely puzzled look she gave him.

“With what?” Her brow furrowed.

“What do you think?!” he exclaimed, face heating up rapidly.

Suddenly her eyes widened when she caught up with the meaning and she took a step back.

“Oh god, why would you even tell me about something like that?!” she honest to god whined, face scrunching up in disgust.

He threw her a lost and perplexed look.

“W-what, wait, you didn’t know?” he cried out, standing up to fully face her. “I thought he told you!”

“No, he didn’t,” she said, unhappily twisting her mouth and paused in thought. “Wait, when did that—uh— _incident_ happen? Before or after you fell out of bed?”

“Before,” he mumbled.

“Okay, have you considered that he may have been asleep still?”

“But I heard him hum!”

She huffed a laugh. “Well, he hums, sniffs and pouts in his sleep.”

Oh.

How endearing; but not the point.

“Also he told me that something rattled him awake and the next thing he heard was a thud followed by your cursing,” she hesitantly told him, probably feeling guilty about partially breaking her promise.

“I see,” he faintly whispered.

She laughed.

“Darn it, if your day hadn’t been so dreadful and horrible already,” she started with a giggle. “I would’ve teased the hell out of you for choosing a job where you have to keep a lot of information under wraps when you accidentally blurt out things like that.”

Biting his tongue so she wouldn’t change her mind, he sighed in suffering. “Can we act like this never happened?”

“Oh, please, absolutely,” she agreed. “Now, where were we? The hair monster on top of your head, yes.”

The redheaded woman went to the bathroom and rummaged around before she came back with her hands full, two cords hanging down. He could recognize a flat iron—Izuna always used one, now that he thought about it—and another appliance he didn’t know. Before he could analyze the rest, she passed him and dropped everything on the bed.

“Did you put anything in your hair after washing it?”

“Izuna’s stupid wonder styling product but it didn’t do shit,” he huffed miffed.

“How much did you use?”

“As much as I saw Izuna use.”

“Have you considered that you have much more hair than him?” Coming back, she looked at his pout. “That’s what I thought.”

When Hashirama finally came back with the beverages, Madara scowled at him, potency probably diminished by the various hair clips sticking out of his parted hair. “Where the hell were you?!”

“Sorry, sorry! I met a coworker of mine on the way there, didn’t Mito tell you?”

The Uchiha shook his head as he accepted and chugged the unpleasant but very effective smoothie when Mito put the flat iron she had been using on his hair on the floor to pick up her ringing phone.

“Yes?” She huffed amused. “Sweetie, what did you expect me to do? You took them off before I could stop you.”

Madara shared a look with the brunette.

“No, I know you wouldn’t expect me to dress you, it’s alright.” She smiled and looked at the Uchiha. “Yes, he’s here. No, wait it’s fi—“

Silence.

“Did he just hang up on you?” the Uchiha asked astonished while Mito gave her phone a long stare.

“He did but not without a goodbye.”

The Uchiha hummed.

Hashirama took the glass from him when he had finished it as Mito picked up the flat iron to continue styling his hair. “What’d you say about going to the gym sometime after breakfast before we hit the beach?”

Madara knew the brunette was doing it so the Uchiha could blow off some steam but it really did reign in his temper most of the time. Also, a bit of workout would surely help him get rid of the restless, excess energy in his body.

He nodded.

“Don’t do that when I’m holding a hot iron to your head!” Mito growled.

“Sorry!”

“I wanna do ‘Dara's hair, too,” his best friend whined.

“Forget it, I’m still mad at you!” he said, crossing his arms, consciously not moving his head. “You screwed me over.”

Hashirama’s eyes widened and he rushed over to him to wrap him in a tight heartfelt hug, avoiding the hot iron Mito immediately pulled away by a hairbreadth.

“Watch it!”

“I would never do anything that could have a negative impact on you or your life, you know that!” the brunette hunk exclaimed, rubbing his face against his with a pout. “I only want the best for you, always. Even with the poll yesterday, I swear.”

Madara sighed.

It was impossibly hard to stay mad at that fool as his hunk of a friend knew him too well and used that knowledge effectively. Who the hell could stay mad at a literal puppy? Only cruel people were able to and Hashirama knew and actively used that against him regularly. Still, unfortunately, it worked.

“Give me a heads up next time,” he begrudgingly grumbled.

“I promise that I will!” Hashirama cheerily exclaimed with a sunny smile as he untangled himself. “Can I now do your hair?”

“No.” He grinned as the other threw him a crestfallen look.

"Besides, look at his hair. He wakes up like that," Mito interjected, gesturing to Hashirama's shiny, straight locks with a longing sigh. "Now look at mine. I don't. It should be clear why I am the one helping you with your hair, yes?"

Madara snorted and nodded, looking at her immaculate hair before she pushed his head back to the front.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Madara stared in awe at his hair. He couldn’t remember a time when it had looked better, all shiny and smooth in an almost immaculate looking ponytail.

“Holy shit, Mito—“

“I told you that I would be able to tame it.” Was her rightfully smug reply.

He now owed that woman his life.

“Can I book you for this whole vacation or something?”

“It does look amazing!” his best friend exclaimed happily when he entered the bathroom. “Mito’s hands are magical!”

“I hope I was able to brighten your mood a bit.”

He made eye contact with her reflection behind him in the mirror. “Absolutely!”

“Good.” She smiled. "It will lift slightly when we go outside but it shouldn't do so too much."

"You seriously are a lifesaver!"

"Guys, I don’t want to interrupt any happy moments but I'm hungry. What do you say about breakfast in twenty minutes?" Hashirama _interrupted_ them.

Mito nodded.

"Fine by me,” Madara exclaimed distracted, still inspecting his shiny hair.

"Alright, I'll ask the others in our vacation group chat!"

Madara left the bathroom with a nod.

“Okay, see you at breakfast then.” He picked up his stuff. “Thanks, Mito, really.”

“No problem.”

“See you!”

Leaving the room with a good feeling and waiting for the elevator to arrive, the Uchiha even almost could imagine to actually be able to share the room with Tobirama.

Freshly showered, dressed in nice clothes and hair looking neat for once, he felt like he could battle the whole world.

However, he opened the door to their room with a grin and rounded the corner with a witty sentence on the tip of his tongue, only to almost choke on air.

Tobirama was sitting on their bed, legs covered with his blanket and looking up from his phone in surprise as Madara stepped inside.

Kinda predictable.

Though, the Uchiha had not anticipated for the other to still be dressed in _his shirt_ , wearing _glasses_ , his hair still mussed up from sleep and pouting sleepily.

Unfortunately, that was a nice loo—screw it—he looked fucking amazing like that and Madara wished the albino would wear his clothes and the glasses for the rest of his life. Truly.

Fuck, he would’ve gifted him his whole wardrobe, only to see the too big fabric accentuate the albino’s lithe frame even better than even his imagination had been able to come up with.

Holy fuck, the real thing put his imagination to shame.

His thoughts were nearing dangerous territory at an alarming speed.

Just in case, he quickly covered his groin with the worn clothes in his hand that he had changed out of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have written majority of this chapter to bridge the time in waiting rooms, _waiting_ for my doctor appointments after my grandiose dive off a long staircase. 
> 
> Also, my arm is indeed broken so editing this took me an eternity but finally I am done, phew!
> 
> Those were my first kiss/intimate scenes I wrote, hope they’re not too awkward.
> 
> I have no idea how this chapter turned out. Is it any good? I hope it wasn’t too bad. Thanks for reading if you made it this far!
> 
> -
> 
> Also a big thank you to [Figgyfan14](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Figgyfan14/pseuds/Figgyfan14) and [copyninken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/copyninken/pseuds/copyninken) for taking the time to answer some questions and give me an idea how more steamy activities in writing work :>
> 
> -
> 
> Oh and in case you want to privately hit me up about any of my works or MadaTobi :>, please feel free to do so on [Tumblr](https://aurora-nuova.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aurora_nuova)


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